Salvador Dalí, Composition for “Labyrinth,” 1947
i’m looking for something to trigger it
the vision of a scene that was wronged
by the seizure of a violin, a stolen touch
like a carpenter’s hand discerning the
contours of a naked jawbone, and a set of
feet that stormed a violent hallway
while the neck was half asleep
if fortune had a shadow it would be
longer than a midnight gown or
the length of a woman wrapped
in silk and bedazzled like a
*pomegranate jewel*
{we are poets in numbers our eyes can’t comprehend}
in truth, it was the blue and white of it, the
curb of the seaside that made my fingers
ache for the trouble of a winding rope,
an anchor at the basin of a free falling tree
from which the sea claimed its rhythm
as i climbed, the generations were
beating in my heart like a kettle drum
and my conscience couldn’t contain
the silence
let our fathers go
the ends of our stories are the
square that binds the knots
of time like a recycled shadow
our tongues are
being strangled at the roots
{within each of us is the voice of a poet
seeking a universal rhythm}
jackknife pollen down a
slippery throat
in the flesh, in the strait, in the chamber,
hive
arrow
seed
was an inverted navel, a maroon-bellied prisoner
of the sun and a voice drowned in the
echoes of children
sleeping like carrots
on the pillows of a neglected
harvest
{only our imaginations are free
enough to invoke the gifts
of a silence beyond silence}
This poem was inspired primarily by the Dalí painting above. It is also worth noting, however, that I’ve been experimenting with my methods of composition lately, and as part of a new poetic exercise, composed a number of these lines after listening to a reading of Jim Morrison’s poetry (to music by The Doors) on the album, An American Prayer. (If you’re a Morrison fan, very highly recommended.)
The Used Life 
17 responses to “Final Cut”
Poetry, a gateway to eternity 🗝️
Salvador, the Maestro, bidding all
to come and play 😎
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…in his playground,
like the eye that watches,
as both time and space go
tumbling into sleep 👁
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As the clock face melts
into timeless space
l sit and write bad poetry
For I too wish to live a day longer 😎
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Haha…amen. Cheers to bad poetry! 😉🍻
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I have no problem with that👌Cheers🥂
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Vous êtes toujours aussi surprenante et élégamment poétique, Melle TUL … Beaucoup plus que votre admiré Dalí, qui a dit un jour qu’il se considérait comme “un écrivain bien meilleur qu’un peintre”. On dit également qu’il était dyslexique et avait des difficultés avec le langage. Si tel était le cas, c’était un grand mérite de pouvoir exprimer ses rêves excentriques dans diverses œuvres littéraires. 🙂
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Merci beaucoup. Je ne savais pas qu’il était pensé pour être dyslexique. Quel talent extraordinaire! J’ai hâte de lire deux textes autobiographiques bientôt: «La vie secrète de Salvador Dalí» et «Journal d’un génie». J’apprendrai certainement davantage. La capacité de transmettre des images en peinture comme en poésie est un cadeau phénoménal. It pleases me that you found this poem surprising. 🙂
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Ha! I just saw this interview clip shared on another blog: https://youtu.be/6oPT0X_wJx4
Do you know what else? I think there is a semblance of truth in this for poets, too….I think I would be a bad artist if I were more “intellectual.” I have wondered this very thing myself, if there is a significant point at which intelligence and creativity diverge. That is, if one can be “too smart” (as in high IQ) to reach the heights of one’s creative potential… 🤔
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That’s an interesting reflection TUL, but I can’t give you my opinion right now. I’m tired, I’m just so tired, and like a soldier in a night war I’ll go now and seek a bed.
Ps. I don’t want you to be angry with me for not give you a quick and grounded answer. 🙂
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I understand, Xyz, that matters such as these are often best resolved by a long and ponderous sleep. 🙂
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😴 Bon nuit mon cher!
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Bon nuit, Xyz 💤
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Dali is such an inspiration:)
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Yes! He sure is 🙂
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The images flow well in this piece. Dali’s work is always fascinating but Jim Morrison has also been an inspiration to many. 🙂 🙂
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Thank you! Yes, Morrison is awesome. As a poet, he speaks right to my soul…and to the souls of many, for sure. 🙂
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[…] rises and its falls. Paces, strokes. Hues and textures. The etchings on the canvas. My surrealist poetry of the Dalí type is always written to Pink Floyd. No exceptions. My play on a poet’s guitar solo […]
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